


Onwards and Upwards

by something1d



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, One Shot Collection, larry stylinson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-18
Updated: 2014-07-17
Packaged: 2018-02-05 03:39:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1803919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/something1d/pseuds/something1d
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of short, Larry Stylinson one-shots, ranging from reality to supernatural and everything in between. Individual descriptions available at the beginning of each one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. and we don't even know where we're going

**Author's Note:**

> Bear with me -- hopefully it's alright and you like it? Let me know, ily <333
> 
> Copyright © 2014 by something1d, all rights reserved.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis comes back after a while. He's met with the surprise of someone else, and a Harry who can apparently tell the future.  
> (Reality)

and we don't even know where we're going

****

Description: Louis comes back after a while. He's met with the surprise of someone else, and a Harry who can apparently tell the future.  
One shot, Reality.

****

"Oh, it's you."

Louis swallows thickly, fidgeting as he looks down at the concrete. His heart is about to pound out of his chest, he's fairly certain that he's going to cry, and he doesn't know who the fuck this person is. 

"Who are you?" Louis sputters out, shocked. The man rolls his eyes.

He's fairly attractive, Louis notes. He has clear blue eyes that are probably very nice to look at, when they aren't cutting into Louis like ice. His hair is dark and tousled, he has a faint layer of stubble growing over his cheeks and chin, and his jaw is so defined that it seems like it could cut rock. He looks like Clark Kent.

It makes him angry. 

"M' Jack," the man says coldly. He's still clenching the door protectively, knuckles white. 

"Okay, Jack," Louis says, blood boiling at Jack's tone. No one fucking talks to him like that. "Is Harry home?"

"I don't know," Jack says acidly. 

"For fuck's sake," Louis bursts out, "We are not playing this fucking game. Just tell me if he's home or not."

"You've got no right to just march on over here and demand to see him," Jack shoots back.

"And you've got no right to speak for him," Louis says angrily. His anger dies down a bit as he continues, voice going quiet. "If he doesn't want to talk to me, then I want to hear it from him. I'll leave him alone if he wants me to."

Jack's releases his grip of the door a bit here, though the ice in his eyes is as cutting as ever. "Fair enough." He takes a step back and calls Harry's name into the house, the house that's so familiar to Louis that just standing here makes his heart hurt. 

"Yeah?" he hears Harry call back, and wow, he hasn't heard that voice in a long time. He swallows back the tears. 

Jack doesn't respond, glaring at Louis. Eventually, Louis hears the padding of footsteps down the hallway, and Harry whining. "Jack," he says, elongating the word, "I was just getting to the best part in my book, what do you -- oh."

Louis is floored. 

It's been ages. Literally. It's been months since Louis has seen Harry, months since they did their last show as One Direction, months since Louis told Harry that he wanted to leave and do his own thing for a while. 

His heart weighs down in his chest like a rock as he thinks about how he never really gave Harry any warning before telling him about the audition he landed in Hollywood. He never really told him about how he'd been talking to management for ages about leaving the band -- he was just sick of it, is the thing. He was over the speculation, the constant hounding, the waiting for him to trip up and do something wrong. He wasn't even allowed to have fun, or make mistakes without someone fucking judging him. And he didn't want that anymore. He figured, if he did his own thing, people would pay less attention to him -- Harry and Niall are the ones they're all mad about, anyways. 

As it turned out, he was more or less correct. He was followed on the streets at times, but it was nowhere near the insanity that he had to endure during his time in the band. It was such a nice break, and he ended up getting the role in a film with Brad fucking PItt and that's something to be excited about. For a month or two, he was on a fucking high. He loved his life, with one exception -- he missed Harry.

But, Harry was obviously angry with him. When Louis told him, he'd cried and yelled and cussed Louis out, and all Louis could do was sit there and take it because he knew he deserved it. He just couldn't get Harry to understand how trapped he felt, how absolutely, positively horrid everything was. Not the fans, he loved them -- it was the pressure that Louis hated. And it eventually got to be too much. 

At first, he'd contacted the Daily Mail, as an anonymous source, and sent them a video he recorded of him and Zayn smoking weed. Everything blew up from there. He just wanted to show the world that he wasn't going to be what everyone wanted him to be, that he's his own fucking person and they can't -- or, shouldn't -- fault him for that. 

He waited until they finished the tour, when they were set to renew their contract -- then broke the news to the other guys. "I want to leave," he'd said, and they'd laughed at first, but then when they realized he was serious, the reaction was semi-surprising. 

Zayn actually nodded and agreed with him. "I think we're basically done, mate. We've done so much. It's, like -- I don't know. I just don't think I love it as much as I used to?"

Liam was a bit upset, but kind. "I respect that you feel that way, and completely understand," he'd said, "And I'm with you when you say that it's a lot of pressure. But are you sure you want to end this now? I -- I love all of this, with you guys. We're brothers."

"It wouldn't mean that we can't be close afterwards," Louis said. "We won't drift apart. I won't allow it."

Liam smiled sadly, but said nothing in response. 

Niall was really torn up about it. "If you lads feel that way, I guess there's not much I can say to convince you otherwise," he said sadly, tears welling up in his eyes. Louis' heart broke, and he pulled Niall into a hug. "God, I'm sorry Niall," Louis whispered, and Niall just shook his head. "You shouldn't be sorry," he sniffed. "I understand."

Harry had surprised him most of all. 

"If that's what you need, Louis, then I'm with you. I'm always with you," he just said kindly, the light in his eyes full of love, and Louis swore he'd never loved him more than he did in that second. 

Their last show had been emotional. Louis'd cried quite a bit, and he doesn't cry -- not in public, at least. But, One Direction had brought him his best friends and the most amazing boyfriend he could ever ask for. It was a big part of his life, and despite all the shit that came with it, he loved the band and the time they'd all spent together while in it. 

Instead of renewing their contracts, they signed new ones about reunion concerts -- they were going to have one or two in three years or so -- and then that was it. They were done. 

Then, Louis broke the news to Harry about the movie. 

He remembers the argument so clearly. It took place in the very fucking house that he's standing in front of right now. "How could you?" Harry shouted brokenly, tears running down his cheeks. "What the fuck happened to 'We won't drift apart?' You just walk in right now and tell me that you're breaking up with me to film with Brad Pitt?!"

"I -- "

"Didn't it occur to you," Harry hissed, "That we could have bought a fucking house there, that we could've -- we could live there, Louis, we can come out now because the band's over, and if you want to pursue a career in film then I'd support you and we could be in Los Angeles all the time, and I'd be there with you every fucking step of the way -- "

"I'm sorry Harry," Louis whispered. "But I need to be away from all of this for a while. Make my own name, away from One Direction."

There had been a long silence, but then Harry broke it. "Fine," he said coldly, grabbing his coat and slamming the door. 

Louis packed his stuff up the next morning and left without a goodbye. 

He felt like shit. But he had to get away, he just had to. He was suffocating in the shadow of the band. He wanted to do his own thing, make his own path.

Throughout the first few weeks of filming -- some of the best weeks of his life, as he'd really missed acting -- he hadn't been able to stop thinking about Harry, and about how much of a dick he'd been. But at that point, the thoughts were merely lingering and guilty, never cutting or painful.

That soon changed.

After a couple of months, he started crying nearly every night, because he missed Harry so much. He couldn't believe he actually said such stupid shit to him, he couldn't believe how unclear his thought process had been -- he fucked it all up.

Harry hadn't contacted him since before he left. He hated him, Louis was sure of it. 

But after they finished filming, he couldn't take it anymore. He had to get his boy back, or at least try.

Which leaves him here, where he's standing right now, at Harry's door, seeing Harry for the first time in what feels like forever.

So much of him has changed, but so much hasn't. He's still got that stupid rag wrapped around his head to hold his messy curls back, he's still got that silver ring around his middle finger, he's still got those gorgeous green eyes. 

But he's wearing a sweatshirt that's too large for him, a sweater that's got to be Jack's. And the amount of pain in his eyes when he sees Louis makes Louis want to break down and cry. 

"Jack, will you excuse us for a moment?"

Jack's head whips around to look at Harry, shocked. Louis smiles smugly. 

"Whatever," Jack mutters, purposely bumping into Harry as he walks away, and Harry winces. Louis' eyes widen in anger, because no.

Once Jack's gone, Harry steps outside and shuts the door behind him, tugging on the sleeves of the sweatshirt. All thoughts of Jack evaporate from Louis' mind immediately.

Harry opens his mouth to speak, but Louis beats him to the punch. 

"I miss you," Louis says quickly. Harry's facial expression doesn't change. Louis can't tell if that's a good or bad thing. "I miss you and I love you and I need you, and I'm sorry that it took all of this to make me fucking realize it but I'm an idiot and I need you in my life, Harry. This is the stupidest thing I've ever done, and I want you to be with me in California, every step of the fucking way. I can't live without you," he says weakly, "and I don't ever want to have to. Please give me another chance. I won't ever fucking let you down again, I swear on my life and on the lives of everyone I care about."

Louis' breathing is shaky and he can't feel his body and he might faint right then and there. Waiting for Harry's response is sucking all of the energy out of him, and he doesn't know how much longer he can take it. 

"I bought a house in LA," Harry blurts out, and Louis' eyebrows shoot up. "I didn't tell you, because I didn't want to seem creepy. Then I figured, it was all over the papers, so me not telling you was pointless, but. Yeah. I bought a house," he's whispering now, "just in case you changed your mind."

Louis' in shock. "I didn't know, I -- I haven't read the papers in a while," he says quietly, and Harry snorts. 

They stand there silently for a bit. Then.

"It was about damn time, you fucking idiot," Harry mutters, grabbing Louis and pulling him into a kiss. 

Louis squeaks, powerless to do anything but go along with it -- not that he was complaining, of course. After a few seconds, though, he pulls away. "But -- but what about him?" Louis asks, pointing to the door. "Are you dating him?"

Harry laughs. "Nah, Jack's just a friend that I've been -- you know."

Louis raises his eyebrows again.

Harry leans in closer. "We're not in a relationship, we discussed it. Regardless, he's nothing compared to you," he whispers, and Louis is left in a daze. 

"So you're telling me," Louis says after a bit, leaning back in an attempt to gather his thoughts. "That you knew this would happen the entire time?"

"Call me a psychic," Harry says, cheeks dimpling. 

Louis shakes his head, tears filling his eyes as he wraps his arms around Harry's neck and buries his face in Harry's shoulder. "Thank you, H," he mutters, "I love you."

"I love you too, Lou. I love you too."

~ fin ~


	2. kiss me under the light of a thousand stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis’ really sick and tired of it all, but Harry’s there. Harry’s always there.  
> Reality, takes place at the Paris stop of the WWA Tour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I write these on microsoft word with italics and everything but they nEVER transfer over to here and I really don't feel like going through and putting them all in haha so I'm sorry bc there are song lyrics and it might be awk without the italics bc they're just there, but, yeah. k.

“I already told you, I’m fucking over it. I’m over all of this.”

Louis is pacing back and forth inside of his hotel room, – the one with a small, single bed that belongs to him and him only, mind you, not a king-sized bed fit for two the way he’d wanted because he’s “not allowed” to share a room with Harry – trying to steady his breathing.

Harry is sitting on the edge of said single bed, looking up at Louis with wide eyes. Louis refuses to look into them, lest he break down into tears.

“We’re in bloody Paris, of all fucking places,” Louis hisses, pivoting and pacing even faster in the opposite direction, “and I’m not even allowed to go outside with you, much less be seen with you. You know how much I fucking love Paris, and you know how much I wanted to take you to that amazing crepe place that I went to last time they made me come here with Eleanor.” He’s talking so fast that he thinks his lungs might burst, but he doesn’t give two shits. He’s angry. He likes the burning sensation, feels like it’s the only thing about his life that he can control at the moment. “They’re not even letting us go out with the lads as a group -- which I really wouldn’t have minded, as long as I got to be with you -- because of the whole mobbing thing!”

“We don’t want anyone to get hurt, Lou, the mobbing thing is reasonable,” Harry says soothingly, but then a pout creeps its way onto his face. “Wait, you went to a cute crepe place in Paris with Eleanor?”

“Now is not the time to get whiny, Harry,” Louis says, a bit more bitingly than he’d been planning on. “I just fucking told you that I wanted to go there with you. Not her. She’s a friend. Don’t do this again. I hate arguing with you.”

Harry’s pout only grows into a full-on frown. “Hey,” Harry whines, just like Louis knew he would, “Just because you’re upset doesn’t mean that you need to take it out on me. I’m in the exact same position you are, love.”

Louis stops, closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and counts to ten in his head, the way his mum had taught him as a child. “Every time you’re upset or angry about something,” she’d said, “stop and breathe. You never want to do anything you might regret.”

And yes, Louis is twenty-two years old. Yes, he’s fully aware that he’s being foolish, that he’s acting like a toddler. But he can’t do this anymore, he really can’t.

He sinks into the small chair in the corner of the room, shoulders slumping. He can feel the tears pricking his eyes, and he swallows thickly, trying to keep them at bay. “I know,” he says in a shaky voice, “I’m sorry. I just can’t help it sometimes, Haz. I love you.” He looks up now, looks Harry in the eyes. The amount of affection he finds there still makes his gut twist and his heart flutter. “I love you,” he says again, “and I hate that they say I’m ‘not supposed to.’ I hate that they keep doing this. I want us to be able to tell them. I don’t want anything more in the world.”

Harry pushes himself off the bed and goes to awkwardly kneel/squat next to Louis’ chair, long limbs tangled and unbalanced. He takes Louis’ hand and presses a long kiss to it, holding it in both of his giant ones. Louis leans into Harry’s touch, finding comfort in the familiarity of Harry’s hands over his. “I love you too,” Harry says quietly, in that rumbling voice of his. “So much. But…I don’t know. I feel like we’re almost there. I feel like it’s going to happen soon. Our contract is set to run out next year, and when we renew it, maybe we can set down a few new terms. If they don’t like it, then tough.”

Louis doubts it, really. Logically, it doesn’t make sense. They wouldn’t let them do that, not in a million years. But Louis can’t bring himself to say so, because there’s so much hope shining in Harry’s eyes, and the last thing he’s ever wanted throughout their more-than-three-years of dating has been to make him upset.

So he just ends up leaning into Harry further, a tear running down his cheek. He tries to wipe at it before Harry sees, but Harry’s breath hitches. “Lou,” he says softly, in that very Harry way of his, and it’s all Louis can do to stay composed. Harry wipes the pad of his thumb across Louis’ cheek, cradling Louis’ face in his hand. “Babe,” he says quietly, his eyes looking quite watery as well, “Please don’t be upset, I’m right here.”

“It just hurts,” Louis says, and his voice cracks and that’s all it takes for Louis to burst into tears.

He doesn’t cry often. Between the two of them, it’s usually Harry doing the crying – when he misses home and his family, or when he reads a particularly nasty rumor online, or about what Louis is crying about right this very second – and Louis doing the comforting. This time, though, it’s become too much. He’s going to crack, blow up, shatter. It’s too difficult.

“Louis,” Harry breathes, leaning forward and tugging Louis into a tight hug. He rubs Louis’ shuddering back as Louis buries his face in the expanse of skin between Harry’s shoulder and neck. He inhales deeply, breath ragged, and focuses on the warmth of Harry’s body, all around him. Harry’s everywhere, cradling Louis inside of him, protecting him. He feels safe.

“I love you,” Harry says quietly, sniffling a bit himself – and no, Harry can’t cry right now or else Louis really will explode – “I love you so much, okay? You mean everything to me. I hate what they’re doing to us, too, love, but we won’t have to wait much longer, I’ll make sure of it.”

“I want to be with you,” Louis says between quiet sobs, though the tears have slowed down, “and only you. I don’t want to have to pretend like I’m single, or like I’m dating anyone else. I don’t want to lie to anyone. I don’t want them to make me look like a twat. I want them to stop making us hide.” He takes another shuddery breath. “I hate that they’re doing this to us.”

Harry doesn’t say anything or move for a heartbeat or two, but then he stands up, taking Louis’ hand and pulling him to his feet. “Where’s your laptop?” he asks Louis, and Louis wipes at his nose, confused. “Um,” he says, voice still shaky, “In the black bag on the side table. Why?”

Harry ignores the question, pulling out the laptop and turning it on. He fiddles with the keyboard a bit, clicks a few times, and then stops, looking up at Louis with a small smile. “Did you ever end up listening to Ed’s new album like I asked you?”

Louis pulls a face. “What’re you doing?” he asks, disregarding the question altogether.

Harry responds with a fond roll of his eyes. “Answer the question, Louis.”

“Ed Sheeran?”

Harry rolls his eyes again. “What other Eds are there?”

Louis shrugs sheepishly, sniffling. “Never got around to it, I guess?”

Harry lets out a sigh that’s probably supposed to sound exasperated, but it just ends up sounding cute and funny, like an annoyed puppy or something. “Of course you didn’t. Alright, well,” he says, clicking the mouse pad. “I think you’re going to like this one.”

Louis barely has time to respond, ask Harry what this has to do with anything at all, but before he can, the opening chords are playing and Ed’s voice is ringing out throughout the small room.

When your legs don’t work like they used to before  
And I can’t sweep you off of your feet

Harry walks over to Louis slowly, bowing with a mischievous smile on his face. He holds out his hand. “May I have this dance, m’lady?”

Now it’s Louis’ turn to roll his eyes. He crosses his arms. “You’re insane,” he says quietly, smiling despite himself.

Harry just grabs his hand anyway, pulling Louis close. He places Louis’ hands on his shoulders, and then his own hands on Louis’ waist, and then starts swaying them side to side. Louis tries to keep himself from smiling and fails miserably. 

And darling I will be loving you ‘til we’re 70  
And baby my heart could still fall as hard at 23

“People fall in love in mysterious ways,” Harry starts singing along softly, “Maybe just the touch of a hand.” Harry squeezes Louis’ waist tighter here, and Louis blushes, unable to help it. “Well, me, I fall in love with you every single day, and I just wanna tell you I am.”

Louis’ heart feels like it’s about to burst, to be honest – and not in the god-awful way that it was about to burst ten minutes ago. Harry’s stopped singing now – and thank god for that too because Louis may have gone into cardiac arrest if he’d continued with those words and that voice and this song – and is smiling at him so lovingly, and he’s being so absolutely ridiculous and this is so very Harry, and Louis loves it quite a lot, if the tingles going down his spine are indicative of anything.

So honey now  
Take me into your loving arms  
Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars  
Place your head on my beating heart

Harry steps back and twirls Louis, and Louis laughs, unable to feel as though he shouldn’t feel so utterly charmed but just does.

“I’m thinking out loud,” Harry croons, and oh shit, he's singing again, Louis' going to probably die a little bit, “That maybe we found love right where we are.”

Louis wraps his arms tighter around Harry’s neck and leans in to rest his head on his chest as they dance, smiling into Harry’s t-shirt.

When my hair’s all gone and my memory fades  
And the crowds don’t remember my name  
When my hands don’t play the strings the same way  
I know you will still love me the same  
‘Cause honey your soul could never grow old, it’s evergreen

Harry starts singing again here, and Louis feels the vibrations in Harry’s skin. “And baby your smile’s forever in my mind and memory.” He pokes Louis’ cheek, and Louis lets out a quiet laugh. “I’m thinking ‘bout how people fall in love in mysterious ways, maybe it’s all part of a plan – Well I’ll just keep on making the same mistakes, hoping that you’ll understand.”

And so it goes, Harry and Louis dancing – well, more like shuffling, really, with the occasional twirl, but who cares – with Harry singing along with the song every once in a while, making Louis feel like he’s on top of the world.

And if Louis cries a little bit more into Harry’s shoulder – for good reasons now, for the best reasons possible, as opposed to the bad ones – well, no one other than he and Harry needs to know.

That maybe we found love right where we are  
Oh baby we found love right where we are  
And we found love right where we are

Harry kisses Louis’ forehead softly as the song comes to a close, and then leans back, not letting go of Louis’ waist. “I love you,” he says quietly, “And I always will. Every time I listen to this song, the only person I can think about is you.”

Louis is blushing ridiculously, unable to stop himself from smiling, despite the fact that his eyes are still puffy and his throat is still sore from all of the crying.

And Louis realizes that he’s so very lucky to have Harry, who dances will him to sweet songs and makes silly faces and is able to make him feel so happy and so, so very loved.

He can wait, he thinks. He can wait to come out, just a little longer, as long as he’s got Harry right next to him.

“I love you too,” he says to Harry, and pulls him into a sweet kiss.

Because even if all of this is complete shit, even if it’s wrong on so, so many levels, and even if it makes Louis right miserable a lot of the time, it’s worth it, in the end.

Harry’s worth it.

****

A few years later, years after Harry and Louis came out as a couple and years after One Direction went their separate ways, they dance to “Thinking Out Loud” at their wedding – live this time, not a recording, because Ed actually came to perform it.

It’s their first ever dance as a married couple, and Louis can’t help but feel the same way he did the first time he heard this song – so young and so in love and so happy.

Harry’s always had that effect on him, he thinks.

Harry holds him close as they dance with Zayn and Liam and Niall and everyone watching, whispering the lyrics in his ear and singing to him just like that first time, and Louis thinks that he should listen to Harry more often.

Because Harry was right, when he said that everything would be okay. He was right when he said that they’d fix it.

And as he looks up into the gorgeous green eyes of his husband, he realizes that he couldn’t have asked for a better, more perfect ending than this. He can’t help but think, right then, that they really did find love, right where they are.


End file.
